I’m not even sure if this week was even a challenge. Having scared even Food Network Magazine away from this show, FNS invited the guy who founded Serious Eats to look at these people attempt to make food and asses of themselves. Oh, and Entertainment Weekly and Entertainment Tonight (quality media outlets of taste and integrity) weren’t busy, either, and tagged along.
(Spoilers and lol white people ahead.)
The saved were taken to Miami to participate in the “prestigious” (read: three days of booze, wine and some other stuff) South Beach Wine & Food Festival. Next week they’ll be cooking for Paula Deen, who thinks this guy, who, on Top Chef at least, would be lounging in a hotel, waiting to go home, for either his foil-tainted Kisses dessert or his “brilliant” lemon juice in a spray bottle idea, is Elvis:
You know, I never really liked It Ain’t All About the Cooking.
Anyway, here are the low lights.
You know, I could go on talking about how the 1950s were, for most anyone not white, straight and male, not this idyllic Happy Days-style paradise, but this really calls for a sassy.gif.
You want to see what she made?
I think this may be the way to finally taste the color of brown.
BUT YOUR SHOW’S A JOKE THOUGH.
Speaking of Justin:
Kinda sad the Serious Eats guy isn’t a judge on this hot mess, because he’d be able to get rid of people like him before they flew to Miami to cook at Nikki Beach because, well, it’s Nikki Beach.
And I’m not sure by this point in the show whether Nikki (contestant, not beach) knew what her gimmick was:
No punchline needed.
Mercifully, Emily and her annoying “retro rad” whatever gets cut from the competition. This only means the show is now 10% more bearable now.